C'koro
by Sirusi
Summary: Sequel to Taize. Taize has been captured by Galbatorix. When she agrees to serve him, she immediately regrets her decision. But there's no turning back once you've sworn your loyalty to the most powerful man in Alagaesia...
1. Murtagh

**AN:** Wootiness! It's finally up! And I only made you people wait a week! Incidentally, if you haven't read "Taize," you don't really need to have read the whole thing to understand what's going on, but you should probably at least read Chapter 15. Basically, Taize was a slave in Galbatorix's palace until she escaped and managed to steal the last dragon egg. And then she did something really stupid and got herself captured. Oh yeah, and the egg that she's been carrying around with her just hatched. That just **might** be important for you to know. So yeah. R&R!!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Murtagh, Galbatorix, or any of the other characters in Inheritance. I also don't own the seventh paragraph of this chapter. I copied it directly from the book (except for substituting the gender pronouns). It's in the chapter "Awakening," at the top of page 39, at least in my version of the book.

**Edit:** Yeah. Seriously. Don't read the entire thing of Taize. I just reread it myself, and it SUCKS. (Bangs head on keyboard.) Chapter 15 is fine, but the rest… Argh. BAD. So until I get the time to do a major revision, just read 15, or you'll think I'm a terrible writer and not want to read C'koro.

**Chapter One  
Murtagh**

"I'll be back," the man said, and walked out the door, shutting it securely behind him.

Taize felt like punching the wall again. Damn it! Here she was, a Rider, for Alagaësia's sake, and she couldn't even get past one stupid door! Of course, she knew it wasn't just one door that she'd need to get through. Galbatorix wouldn't be about to let the last egg – well, the last Rider and her dragon, now – slip through his grasp again.

The baby dragon, who she had almost forgotten about in her frustration, let out a loud squeak. She felt resentful towards it for a moment; after all, the dragon had chosen her, not the other way around. She was a little mad that she'd had no say in the matter.

But as the hatchling squawked again, her irritation faded. It wasn't the dragon's fault that it had hatched under less-than-perfect circumstances. The dragon let out another squeak, and she sighed. "What do you want, you overgrown little lizard?" she asked it affectionately.

It squawked again, this time in indignation, and turned its head to look at her. Those eyes… They were… intelligent, was the only word she could think of. It unnerved her a little. "You can understand me?"

It didn't answer, but squeaked again, and she finally realized what it wanted. "Oh! You're hungry, aren't you?" She rummaged through her bag, which was difficult with only one hand, but she finally managed to find what she was looking for. She still had some dried fish from Nezjy's boat, and as she pulled it out, the dragon bumped its head against her broken hand, like a cat wanting to be petted. She dropped the fish, and the dragon snapped it up, but Taize didn't notice.

A blast of icy energy surged into her hand and raced up her arm, burning in her veins like liquid fire. She fell back with a wild cry. An iron clang filled her ears, and she heard a soundless scream of rage. Every part of her body seared with pain. She struggled to move, but was unable to. After what seemed like hours, warmth seeped back into her limbs, leaving them tingling. Shivering uncontrollably, she pushed herself upright. Her hand was numb, her fingers paralyzed. Alarmed, she watched as the middle of her palm shimmered and formed a diffused white oval. The skin itched and burned like a spider bite. Her heart pounded frantically.

It was almost as though a secret compartment in her mind had suddenly been opened. The feeling was familiar somehow, but she couldn't quite… The voice! When she had escaped the palace, there had been a voice in her head. That was what this… connection felt like. She realized suddenly that she could speak to the dragon with her mind.

_If I touch you again, will it hurt?_ she asked.

The dragon sent her a feeling of incomprehension. "So you _don't_ know what I'm saying," she told it aloud.

"Well, he _is_ still just a baby. You have to give him pictures, or feelings." Taize jumped at the sound of the voice. Apparently, the man had come back while she was preoccupied with the dragon. "I brought some food for him," he continued, "but apparently he isn't hungry anymore."

"How would _you_ know?"

"If he still wanted food, he'd still be squawking like there was no tomorrow."

"You seem to know a lot about dragons."

He didn't answer, but entered her cell. She glared at him warily, but didn't move away as before. "I'm just going to splint your arm," he said. "No need to get hostile." He put a subtle emphasis on the last word, as if he was mocking her, as if she was so little of a threat that _hostile_ was much too intense of a word to describe her.

However, he showed surprising gentleness when he was putting on the splint, which puzzled her. So biting and sarcastic one moment, but kind the next.

"Come on," he said. "And bring your dragon." He opened the cell door.

Taize picked up the dragon gingerly with her good arm, careful of the ash-colored spikes on its back. It hummed contentedly.

"Don't bother trying to escape," added the man as she stepped out into the hallway.

She almost snorted. Yeah, right. She'd just follow him, unbound, and not even attempt to get away. She'd let him lead her outside, then she'd make a run for it.

"That won't work," he said, startling her.

"What won't work?"

"Your so-called escape plan. Frankly, I'm surprised you think I'm so idiotic that I would actually allow you to escape. Even _you_ should know that if the king himself sent me to get the last dragon egg, I'm _not _a complete dunderhead."

"It was worth a shot," she mumbled, slightly embarrassed and very confused. "How did you know what I was thinking?"

He smirked. "Your mind is completely defenseless. It's like an open book, practically begging someone to read it."

"Is that what you did?" she asked, horrified. "You read my mind?"

"It's not the same thing," he sighed. He sounded as though he was talking to a small child. He probably would have gone into greater detail, but at that moment, they emerged from wherever it was Taize had been held. She didn't stop to look back, however, because right in front of her was a magnificent ruby-red dragon. Its scales caught the bright sunlight, making the dragon's hide look even more brilliant than it would have been normally.

"Holy crap," she said, awed.

"Subtle," remarked the man sarcastically. Taize realized that he must be another Rider.

"Who _are_ you?" she asked.

"My name is Murtagh," the Rider said, "and this is Thorn."

"That didn't answer my question."

"I know."

Taize was exasperated. It was completely impossible to get any information whatsoever out of this man – Murtagh. "Where are we going?" she asked. Perhaps he would at least answer that.

"Urû'baen," he replied succinctly.

"What?!"

"You really are stupid, aren't you?" Now he was the one who was exasperated. "Where else would we be going? You're the last Rider in Alagaësia. The king wants to see you." Taize could have sworn she heard him add, under his breath, "you dolt."

"Well, forgive me if I'm not quite thinking clearly right now. I've just had the last dragon in the world hatch for me, which for most people would be a time of great joy. But for me, of course, it only serves to make me more miserable!" She glared at Murtagh with fiery intensity, but it only seemed to amuse him. Then his face darkened.

"You have no idea what misery is," he said softly.

"Oh, really? Have _you_ ever been a slave? Have you ever lived every single day knowing that the value of your life is measured in crowns? Knowing that to the rest of them, you're not even a human being?"

Murtagh didn't seem remotely affected by her outburst. "If you thought you were a slave then, just wait until we get to the capital." Skepticism was plain on Taize's face. "I'm not going to wasted time arguing with you," Murtagh said. "You'll find out for yourself soon enough."

"I'm not going back. You can't make me."

Murtagh sighed. "Now you just sound like a three-year-old. And if you try anything, I will, as you so _aptly_ put it, 'make you.' Now come, we should have left five minutes ago. And before you ask yet another stupid question, we're riding on Thorn."

"What about my dragon? He can't fly yet… Can he?"

"No. He can ride in one of Thorn's saddlebags, as long as we keep this journey short. Soon enough he'll be up to your waist."

Taize sensed her dragon's unease as she neared Thorn, but she sent him reassuring thoughts of comfort, trying not to let her own growing panic seep across their mental link. She was going back to the capital, back to the place of all of her worst memories, the place of her childhood – if, indeed, it could be called a childhood.

Not to mention the fact that the last time she had actually seen the king, she had insulted him. And of course, stealing the egg wasn't exactly the most ingratiating thing she could have done. She doubted she could escape Galbatorix's wrath entirely even if she begged on her knees for mercy and swore her loyalty to him.

No, she was not looking forward to returning to Urû'baen.

**AN:** Not bad (lengthwise, at least) for the first chapter, huh? REVIEW! If you do, I will love you forever! (And I won't sic Barney on you. Mwahahahahahaha!)


	2. Warning

**AN: **Sorry if Murtagh is a little OOC this chapter, but I was really tired when I was writing the last part so that I could get it up on time. This week, that is a small miracle, because I had to be up early on Saturday and I had a bunch of chem homework to do today. So enjoy! Or die.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Inheritance. Or an iPod. I'm sad now.

**Chapter Two  
****Warning**

Once Taize's dragon was nestled securely in a saddlebag, Murtagh climbed up into Thorn's saddle and offered a hand to help Taize climb up.

"I can do it myself," she argued, swatting his hand away. However, on her first attempt she slipped and fell. She instinctively held out her right arm to break her fall, but she realized too late that her right arm was the broken one. She let out a cry of pain, as well as a long and vivid stream of oaths.

Murtagh proffered his hand again, and this time Taize took it, noting the smile playing at the corner of his mouth. _Men,_ she thought. _Arrogant bastards, all of them._ She heard a loud squeak, and a small green head poked out of the saddlebag. _Oh, right,_ she told the dragon, not caring whether it understood her words. _Sorry._ He retreated back inside with as much dignity as a dragon the size of a cat could muster.

Taize settled herself into the saddle in front of Murtagh, sitting stiffly. She hadn't been this close to a man who wasn't a fellow slave since that time when she was twelve… She shuddered a little, but was jerked back to the present as she realized that Murtagh was talking to her.

"…but if you do _somehow_ manage to fall off, Thorn will catch you."

"What?"

He sighed. "Just put your legs through those loops on either side of the saddle."

"What about you?"

"I'll be fine. Unless Thorn decides to show off," he replied dryly.

She did as Murtagh had told her to, and no sooner were her legs secure than Thorn had, with several mighty flaps of his wings, taken to the sky.

Once they were in the air, Taize let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She closed her eyes, letting the wind rush past her face. She didn't want the ride to end – and not just because there would be hell to pay once they got returned to Urû'baen.

All too soon, however, Thorn was angling downward, preparing to land. She opened her eyes, surprised. "Are we there already?"

It sounded as though Murtagh was about to say something sarcastic, but if he was he kept his comment to himself. "No, we're only about halfway there. We should be arriving later tonight."

"So why are we stopping?"

"Lunch. Aren't you hungry?"

"I guess I could eat something," she replied, realizing only as she spoke that she was absolutely ravenous.

Then Thorn landed, surprisingly gently for a creature his size. Murtagh dismounted first, then Taize jumped off, landing solidly on her feet. She was pleased to see that Murtagh looked slightly puzzled.

"How did you do that without hurting yourself? You should have at least sprained your ankle jumping from that height."

She took a page from Murtagh's book and didn't answer, but grinned. (**AN:** Those of you who read "Taize" know that she used to jump down from her bunk bed; I figured Thorn's shoulder was about that high up.)

Murtagh merely shook his head and started taking food from Thorn's saddlebags. He pulled out a good-sized loaf of bread, tore it in half, and threw a piece to Taize.

She caught it out of reflex and took a huge bite as she went to get her dragon. He didn't look too pleased that he had been cooped up in a saddlebag for so long, because once Taize put him on the ground, he completely ignored her and began licking one of his claws.

"I'm sorry, okay? Is it my fault you can't fly yet?" she yelled, exasperated. Then she sighed. "I'm sorry. This hasn't been my best day." She scratched the dragon under his chin, and he arched his back in pleasure, like a cat. "You're such a little moocher," she told the dragon, smiling.

He seemed to let out something like a mental sigh. "Hey. You don't exactly fly away screeching to the heavens whenever I pet you." She continued to stroke the dragon and eat her bread, until Murtagh came over.

"We should get going soon. Is your dragon hungry?"

As her dragon sent her a (rather melodramatic) thought of agonizing hunger, she told him, "Oh please. You're not dying." Then she turned to Murtagh. "Yeah. He's hungry."

"Can he wait until we get to the castle?"

"By the way he's going on about it, it's doubtful whether he'll live that long."

Murtagh went over to the saddlebags again, stowing away the portion of the bread that he hadn't eaten. Then he reached into another bag and brought out a dead rabbit.

"Ooookay. _Why_ were you carrying around a dead rabbit?"

"Thorn can go without eating for days. But sometimes he gets a bit peckish, and he doesn't have time to hunt. Of course, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I gave it to your dragon." He dropped the carcass in front of Taize's dragon, who began zealously ripping it apart. Taize turned away, slightly queasy.

"You should probably start thinking about a name for him," remarked Murtagh.

"Probably." They sat in silence for awhile. The only sound was the little dragon tearing the rabbit to shreds. "I'm not sure if I want to, though," Taize said suddenly.

"What?"

"I'm not sure if I want to give him a name."

"Why?"

_Because if I give him a name, he's real.__ And if he's real, all of this is real. And if all this is real, then I can't cling to that one last little shred of denial that I have, the one little portion of my brain that says all of this is just a dream. And I'm not sure if I can handle that._

"Because I'm not sure if I'll be able to come up with a suitable name. After all, he _is_ a dragon," she said aloud. But despite herself, she was thinking, running through names of people she had known in her head, rearranging letters, trying to find a name that sounded right.

"He has to have a name eventually."

"Maybe."

Once her dragon had finished the rabbit, they prepared to leave again. This time Taize managed to get into Thorn's saddle without any help from Murtagh. Thank the gods. She didn't know if she could have stood his gloating for the rest of the trip.

When they were in the air again, Murtagh spoke. "Before we get to Urû'baen," he said, "there are some things that you should know." Taize was surprised to hear that for once his voice held no hint of sarcasm. "Pay attention, because I don't particularly feel like having to repeat myself."

"I'm listening."

"Good. Galbatorix will want to see you when we get there. He's going to try to get you to swear your loyalty to him in the ancient language." Sensing that she was about to interrupt, he hastily went on. "It would take too long to explain it in its entirety, but the ancient language is infused with magic, and you can't lie when you're speaking it. That means that any oaths you make are binding. You can't break them. I would suggest that you just do as he tells you to. You'll save yourself a lot of suffering."

"He's not exactly going to be happy to see me, anyway, is he? A mere slave, who somehow managed to steal the last dragon egg? Somehow I doubt he's just going to let that slide. Besides," her voice was quieter now, "I've had enough of doing what I'm told."

"You're just going to make it harder on yourself." He sounded slightly sad. "You're going to end up swearing to him sooner or later."

"Then let it be later," she said. "Don't you understand? I'll lose too much if I just bend to that madman's will." _Like my__ dignity. Like __my__ self-respect._

"I can tell that you're not going to listen, so I won't preach. Just know that I warned you."

"Fine. I'll remember that."

They rode on in silence for the rest of the trip. At long last, when the sun was setting, Taize could finally see the towers of Galbatorix's palace, thrusting upward into the sky. She felt an all-too-familiar emotion flutter in her chest.

It was fear.

**AN:** That chapter was kind of boring, I guess. Next chapter **should** be better. (Note the use of the word "should" and not "will.") Though I feel really bad for Taize during the next chapter. Because Galbatorix is not exactly going to be happy to see her. And Taize is way too stubborn to just join Galbatorix. I am going to be pitying her a lot this week. And possibly next week as well. Sigh.


	3. Galbatorix

**AN:** SORRY! SORRY! SO SORRY! Please don't kill me! I know it took me forever to get this up. But hopefully you'll all be so overjoyed that I've actually updated that you won't come after me with torches and pitchforks. I have just been so busy. First there was the end of November, when I had evil, bitchy, horrible writer's block. I tried to write, but it was all complete crap. And I figured that might make you more pissed off than if I was a little late updating. But then it kind of got out of control... But at least I'm finally updating again! I'll shut up now so you people can read. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Galby. Or Murtagh. Though I really wish I did. DAMN, he's hot. And even if I hadn't seen the movie (which sucked, by the way!), I'd still think Murtagh is hot. Because even though I have no idea what he actually looks like according to Christopher Paolini, he is just a really hot character. Okay, I just ramled way too much for a disclaimer. And made no sense at all. Yay, randomness! Anywho, everything else belongs to me.

**Chapter Three  
Galbatorix**

Their landing in Urû'baen seemed far more jarring than it had at lunch. Taize felt slightly nauseous as she jumped off. It could just have been that she'd actually had food in her stomach for the second half of the journey, but it was more likely that she was just afraid.

"Come with me," Murtagh told her, and he set off into the castle.

Taize was almost a head shorter than he, and she practically had to run to keep up. Murtagh led her through a maze of twisting corridors, finally stopping before a set of huge, ornately carved wooden doors. They were opened just wide enough for a person to slip through. Two guards were standing there, looking bored. Their eyes widened when they say Taize carrying the small green dragon.

"Watch her," Murtagh told the two of them sharply. Then he turned to Taize. "I'll be back to get you soon." He disappeared into the throne room.

Taize leaned against the wall for a few moments, but she was too agitated to stand still for long. She began pacing in front of the doors, anxiously waiting for Murtagh to return. It couldn't have taken him very long, but to her it seemed an eternity.

Finally, though, he emerged from the room and said. "Come. The king will see you now." As an afterthought he added, "You should probably leave your dragon out here."

Taize scowled, but set her dragon gently on the floor. Then she followed Murtagh nervously into the throne room. The first thing Taize noticed as she stepped into the throne room was how light and airy it was, for a man whose personality was so foreboding. Long velvet curtains hung open, revealing huge windows along three of the walls. The last rays of the sunset poured in, bathing the room in a golden glow. She paused for a moment to admire the effect, but it was spoiled by the man sitting on his throne at the far end of the room.

"So." Galbatorix's voice was dangerously soft. He didn't have an altogether too pleased look on his face, either, but that might just have been the way the king always looked. "Murtagh tells me that you do not wish to serve me."

"No," she replied. She had meant to sound defiant, but the word ended up coming out as a pathetic squeak.

Galbatorix looked amused. His smile was eerily similar to the one Murtagh had worn when she'd fallen trying to mount Thorn.

"Are you sure about that?" He muttered some strange-sounding words, and suddenly her whole world was pain. Blinding, agonizing pain. A scream tore itself from her throat. It echoed loudly in the high-ceilinged room.

She just wanted the pain to end, wanted it to be over. She would do anything, if only… And then it stopped. Suddenly, all that was left was a dull ache all over her body and her own heavy breathing. It was the strangest sensation. It almost seemed impossible that a moment ago she'd been writhing on the floor in agony.

"Let me ask you again. Are you _sure_ that you don't want to join me?"

For a moment, she was tempted to say no, she wasn't sure at all. But…she couldn't. It would defy some deep-down principle, something… She just couldn't. Not yet.

Hardly trusting her voice, she spoke, almost in a whisper. "I'm sure."

She had no idea how much pain those two little words would end up causing her.

"Ah, I had hoped things would turn out differently," he said, not sounding at all regretful.

The emotionlessness in his voice was beginning to scare her more than if he had started screaming at her. At least then he'd be showing some form of human emotion. Although she wasn't quite sure that Galbatorix actually _was_ human. Suddenly he grinned, a tiny curve of the mouth that managed to send chills down her spine.

"I suppose we'll have to see if we can't cure that stubbornness."

"Come on." Murtagh, who had been standing at her side throughout the encounter, suddenly spoke. He grabbed her arm and led her down the hallway.

He pushed open a plain wooden door and led her down several flights of steps. As they descended, the air grew colder. Soon Taize was shivering.

When they finally reached the dungeons, Murtagh led her to a cell very similar to the one she had left earlier in the day, except that there was no window.

As she heard the lock click shut behind her, any remaining confidence she might have had disappeared. What had she gotten herself into? At least she hadn't been separated from her dragon. She was still holding him close in her left arm. But it seemed only a matter of time before he was taken away from her.

**AN:** Sorry if it's a little short. That's all I could manage right now. Because the musical has started! We're doing Brigadoon this year! (If you don't know what that is, Google it.)Woot! We all get to talk in really bad Scottish accents! It's pretty hilarious. Anywho... REVIEW!!! ...Please?


	4. Oath

**AN:** Oh. My. God. I am SO sorry that it took me so long to update! Regular updates will be back soon, I promise! I'm not going to annoy you with a long AN this time so that you can just get to the chapter that (I hope) you have been waiting for.

**Chapter Four  
Oath**

"Wake up."

The voice startled Taize back into consciousness; she had just been drifting into an uneasy sleep. She looked up, and saw that the speaker was Murtagh. She closed her eyes again, not caring what he had to say. He was probably here to torture her again.

She couldn't believe she had ever thought that Murtagh might not be so bad. She had learned over the past few days that whenever he came down to her cell, she would soon be in pain.

"…Did you just hear a word I said?" he asked.

Taize wanted to continue ignoring him, but she was too curious. Usually he didn't speak to her. Especially not in an almost-friendly way.

"No…" she reluctantly admitted.

"Galbatorix is coming to see you today."

What little color that was left in her face drained from it. _Shit. This is not going to go well._ "What? Why?" she asked.

"Apparently he thinks that it's about time you decided to swear your loyalty to him. He tends to get…irritable, whenever someone refuses to serve him." Taize thought she saw his eye twitch a little.

"No, really?" she replied dryly. "I hadn't the _faintest_ clue."

Murtagh frowned, but didn't offer a retort. "And… when I probed your mind, a few days ago… Galbatorix has seen everything that I saw. I thought you'd like to know."

_That could be debated,_ she thought to herself. On one hand, now she would be dreading meeting Galbatorix again. But on the other hand, if he had just shown up and she'd had no idea that he was coming…Ugh. Either way, she knew she was in for it. Especially since he had seen her memories.

With nothing else to do, Taize was brooding.

Maybe she _had_ been stupid and rash. Maybe she should have just agreed to serve him. It would have saved a lot of trouble – Her thinking was cut off by the dragon, who gave her a little mental growl and a death glare that would have done her mother proud.



Suddenly, she heard footsteps. Two sets of footsteps. One had to be the king's, but who would he bring with him? Murtagh, perhaps?

At any rate, the other man didn't show his face. Galbatorix, on the other hand, leered at her through the small barred window of her cell door. Down here, surrounded by the stone that was almost as cold as he was, he looked even more menacing than he had in the throne room.

"Hello, Taize." His voice sent shivers down her spine. He managed to make those two normally innocuous words sound very scary. "I have someone here that I'd like you to meet." There was a nasty gleam in his eye as he spoke.

The other man stepped forward. She still couldn't see him very well, but she could tell that he was well-groomed, unusual for an average citizen of Urû'baen. He was probably a noble, she thought. And, she couldn't help noticing, he wasn't bad-looking.

But he was still a noble (probably). Why would Galbatorix bring a noble down here…?

"Shit," she blurted out as she suddenly understood, then: _Damnit. Why couldn't he have just brought some drunk off the streets?_

Because he has easier access to nobles. Besides, if it was someone random it wouldn't really be the most effective form of torture, now would it? She answered her own question in her head.

Galbatorix smirked at her as he opened the cell door. Taize leapt to her feet, briefly forgetting the pain that came every time she moved. It came back full-force once she was on her feet, however, and she nearly fell. She grabbed at the wall for support, her face pale.

As the noble entered her cell, Taize spoke. "You bastard." She wasn't sure whether she was speaking to him or Galbatorix, but she was sure that they both deserved that particular insult.

The noble slowly backed her into a corner, but when he reached down to undo his pants, she cried, "All right! All right." Gods, she hated him. "If I swear to you… Will you call him off?" She glared at the king with a mixture of misery and hatred. She hated feeling so helpless. And she hated Galbatorix.

He smiled, not saying a word.

"Call him off."

"You," he said, " are in no position to bargain." Nevertheless, he nodded slightly, and the noble backed off a little. "Repeat after me: Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal, weohnata sköliro Galbatorix un Murtagh. Äfweohnata weo morre elos ö memorre. Un äfweohnata dece Galbatorix sï pode. (AN: I made almost all of that up, so don't bother trying to figure out what he just said.)



As she said the words, Taize almost felt like she could _see_ them binding her, swirling about her in complex patterns. But almost as soon as she had the thought, the sensation subsided.

She made a mental note to ask Murtagh later what the words had meant. But no, he wasn't to be trusted. Or maybe… she wondered if Ineb was still here. Probably, since she had only been away for a month or two. But one never knew. She would head down to the slaves' quarters as soon as she got the chance.

"Murtagh will be down to fetch you." Galbatorix's voice cut through her thoughts. "In the meantime, you will be allowed to see your dragon."

He left her cell door unlocked behind him. Not that she was going anywhere, anyway. She was exhausted just from being so terrified a few minutes ago. (Not that she would ever admit how scared she had been, even to herself.)

Soon, someone came in with her dragon. Had she been standing, the dragon would have been up to her knee. Although she still couldn't speak with him due to the lingering effects of the drug that she had been given regularly, she hugged him tightly, carefully avoiding his spikes.

"I guess I'll have to name you soon," she mused aloud. "I don't suppose you'd be very happy with me if I just called you Dragon."

He squawked his disapproval.

"How about I name you now, then." Despite her earlier reluctance to name him, it was one of the things she'd been thinking about to take her mind off of her situation. She had already decided that she was going to use a word from the desert language she knew from her childhood, and she had narrowed it down to four choices: d'naey, which meant no; sremiy, or sword; ludec, east; and – ironically enough – c'koro. Hope. She hadn't picked the words for any particular reason, she just liked the way they sounded.

The dragon, knowing what she was up to (the drug didn't affect his ability to know her thoughts), stared at her with his piercing green gaze as she compiled her mental list.

"Would you stop staring at me? It gets a little creepy."

The dragon blinked and cocked his head.

"That's better. So… are you D'naey?" An indignant squawk. "Hey, no need to get touchy. Sremiy?" Another no. "What about Ludec?" No. "…C'koro, then?"

He hummed contentedly.



Taize sighed. It was just her luck to get a dragon whose name meant hope. Who would remind her every day that there was so obviously no hope left for her. But he seemed to like the name. And he was giving her a look that said, I have my reasons.

As C'koro squawked happily, enjoying his new name, the door opened. It was Murtagh. Taize hugged C'koro just a little closer, taking comfort from the warmth of his emerald scales.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

"_You_ of all people should know," came the icy reply.

"Should have seen _that_ coming," he muttered, more to himself than to Taize or C'koro. He took the few short strides across her cell and picked her up before she had time to protest. She was so surprised by the action, and still so tired, that she didn't even attempt to struggle as they left the dungeons, with C'koro following quietly behind.

As they began to mount the steps, what she had done began to sink in. She had just sworn herself to Galbatorix. Now, she thought, she had even less freedom than she'd had as a slave.

But even with that terrible thought looming over her, she was too exhausted to worry about it just then. She found Murtagh's rhythmic footsteps soothing, and soon she had fallen asleep in his arms.

**AN:** Just so you know, the next few chapters are going to be really short, because I'm doing run crew for a show and I don't have much time, but there WILL be updates if it kills me. But they will be short. Just thought I'd let you know that. Oh, and please review! Constructive criticism is welcomed.


	5. Sleep

**AN:** Whoops. I was going to have this up on Friday. But then my evil computer decided to not have internet access. And then my teachers decided to give me a crapload of homework. Anywho, since these next two chapters are so pathetically short, I decided to give them to you both at once. I probably could have combined them to one chapter, but I thought they needed to be two.

**Disclaimer:** Gah. I don't have a creative way to say that I don't own the Inheritance trilogy tonight. Ugh...

**Chapter Five  
Sleep**

C'koro was worried. His Rider hadn't woken in three days, and he was unable to contact her through their mental link. What if she never woke again?

The healing woman was standing over Taize's bed, tending to her. Suddenly, the door opened, and the man from before – Murtagh? – strode in.

Without looking up, the healing woman spoke: "Get out."

Murtagh's eyes flashed dangerously, and his lips formed the beginning of a spell, but she cut him off. "Do you know the first thing about healing, other than those for healing physical wounds? I doubt it."

"But I –"

"May I remind you," she began, her voice quiet but deadly, "that the king put _me_ in charge of her care? I doubt you cold rid yourself of a cold! You know next to nothing about warding off infection, how to cure a fever – but since Galbatorix has forbidden anyone from healing her wounds, that is all that can be done," she hissed. "And you _certainly_ know nothing about healing injuries of the spirit such as she has suffered. The fact that she won't wake isn't because of her infection. It's because she doesn't want to wake. Because of what _you_ did to her. So if you could _please_ step outside and _let me do my job_. The gods know that you are the _last_ person she needs in her room right now!" (**AN:** Wow. That was an impressive rant. I like my healing woman already.)

Murtagh was cowed, mostly because of the fact that she was absolutely right. The girl didn't need to see him right now…

C'koro wanted to ask Taize what the man had done to her. He understood that terrible things had happened to his Rider in the dungeons. Whatever drug she had been given to suppress her ability to communicate with him, it didn't work both ways. It hadn't affected his ability to know that she had been in pain.

But now it was different. He knew that she was blocking him out on purpose, rather than having the blocking done for her by a drug. She had managed to cut herself off even from her dragon, and she didn't even know how to shield her mind. She had retreated to somewhere deep inside herself, somewhere even he couldn't reach.

He felt confident that she would wake up eventually. He just hoped that eventually meant soon.


	6. Life

**AN:** Here you go! Second chappie in one night! Woot!

**Disclaimer:** Still don't own Inheritance. Still cannot say that in a creative way. Damned writer's block-ish thing that stops my creative juices from flowing.

**Chapter Six  
Life**

The blackness surrounding her was not cold, as she had thought it would be. As soon as she had entered into it, the darkness had seemed to reach out and welcome her, enveloping her in a warm, safe cocoon.

It was so comfortable, so inviting. All she wanted to do was go to sleep. All she would have to do was close her eyes… But a nagging little voice in the back of her mind told her that she mustn't sleep, that she had to stay awake – for C'koro.

_C'koro._ She knew that name from somewhere, but it wasn't important now. This C'koro couldn't possibly be as important as her getting her well-deserved sleep. But the voice said no. _It's not time. Not yet. You need to go back. For C'koro._

For C'koro! She wanted to scream, but she found that she could not make a sound. For C'koro! _Why should _I_ have to care about someone else?_ she wanted to ask. _Why can't I do what_ I _want for once?_ After all, she had been doing what everyone else told her to for most of her life…

A sudden tiredness washed over her, and she closed her eyes. But even as she began to drift off, the voice in her head seemed to kick and scream and beg her not to.

She realized that she was not going to be allowed to rest today. Sometime in the future, maybe. Hopefully sometime soon in the future.

With an effort, she opened her eyes. She found that she was not drifting freely in the blackness anymore. She was in a hallway, with one door just at her back, and another far in front of her.

She knew that the door behind her would lead back into the blackness. But even as she reached for the handle, she could feel a resistance from it, a force that was pushing her, forcing her to march toward the far door, then making her open that door, and step past the threshold.

**AN:** Once again, sorry for the really short chappies. I promise, next week's will be longer!


	7. Rhia

**AN: **Okay, first off, let me say that I am REALLY sorry about the long wait, although in my defense, I _was_ busy studying for finals. Also, sorry if this chapter is a bit choppy. I had to write in bits and pieces whenever I had the time (and sometimes when I didn't have the time because I was supposed to be studying for Government!) But the good news is, it's WAY longer than the last two chapters. Although it's still not very long. And it's pretty much a filler chapter... Anywho, I'll shut up now so you can read.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own. Don't sue. Thanks.

**Chapter Seven  
Rhia**

Taize blinked several times at the sudden brightness, then became aware again of the pain in her side. She wondered where Ineb was. He must have been there at least once; her wounds had apparently been bandaged as she slept. At that moment, she realized that she was very glad that she had a blanket covering her, because she wasn't wearing any clothes underneath.

As she pulled the covers more tightly around her, she saw that someone was standing over her. "Ineb?" she asked. But no, this was not the slaves' quarters, and the person standing over her was a woman, not a man.

"No, sweetheart. My name's Rhia." The woman put a cool cloth on her forehead, which felt good. But where was Ineb? She was sick. Ineb had always been there when she was sick.

For that matter, where was she? She was on a comfortable bed, not her bunk in the slave quarters. Light was pouring into the room through a window near the bed. The large room where she used to sleep had no windows. And the bed – it was more luxurious than anything she had ever had. The mattress and covers were soft, not the scratchy material she was used to. The walls and ceiling looked like the stone of the rest of the castle, but it was not the same as the rough-hewn blocks of the slave quarters.

A squeak came from the corner of the room. It was C'koro, looking as concerned as his reptilian face would allow. When Taize saw him, everything came back. It felt as though a heavy weight had settled on her chest. She remembered everything, from her escape to the egg hatching to Murtagh.

Murtagh… A slight shiver went down her spine, even though she was hot. She hoped that she would be able to mostly avoid him, though she doubted that would be possible. She was a Rider, and Galbatorix would want her trained as one. He would most likely have Murtagh be her teacher, rather than doing it himself. Either way, she lost.

"I'll be right back." The healing woman's gentle voice broke through her thoughts. "I'm going to get some more bandages." She left the room quietly, careful not to startle Taize.

The blanket covering her was beginning to make her hot. She wanted to change her position to get more comfortable, but the pain in her side was so great that she didn't dare try to move. But there was no way in hell that she was going to get rid of that blanket, not if there was the faintest chance of anyone other than the healing woman coming into her room. Her right arm was still splinted, which made it even more difficult to get settled into a comfortable position.

She wondered why her wounds were merely being tended to, rather than healed. Galbatorix undoubtedly had at least one mage available who was strong enough to heal her injuries. (**AN:** She doesn't know that Murtagh can do magic yet. And even if she did, I don't think she'd let him near her, anyway.)

"Because he wanted you to suffer for defying him." Taize jumped, badly startled, at the declaration from the voice in the corner of the room.

"Would you stop doing that?" she asked shakily, her fear overcome, at least for the moment, by indignation.

"No." He walked over to her bed, surveying her with a critical eye. Why that dragon had chosen her as his Rider, he would never understand.

As he neared her bed, Taize shrank back into the mattress, knowing that she was absolutely helpless. She didn't realize that he was just looking at her, just wondering. Then again, her experiences with nonenslaved males hadn't exactly been the greatest parts of her life.

Fortunately for Taize, the healing woman chose that moment to reenter the room. She took in the scene, Murtagh moving towards the girl, who looked absolutely terrified.

"I said OUT!" she thundered, red-faced. "Murtagh! I want you to stay clear of this room unless I receive word from the king himself that you are to do otherwise!"

Murtagh looked at her for a moment, then left the room.

Taize just stared at the healing woman, awed. "Who _are_ you? And how did you do that?"

She smiled. "My name is Rhia. And it was quite easy to make him leave the room. He already feels guilty, I just exploited that fact."

"Guilty?" Taize repeated. "About what?"

Rhia snorted. "Have you taken a look at yourself lately?"

"No," she grimaced. "But if I look anywhere near as bad as I feel, I don't think I want to."

"Good point." There was a slight pause. "Do you think you can sit up for me? It would make it a lot easier to change the bandages on your back."

"I think so. Could you help me?"

Rhia took her left arm and helped pull her up into a sitting position, then began to unwrap the bandages around her torso.

"You're sure he won't be back?" Taize asked.

"Not until at least tomorrow. Maybe not even until you've healed up a bit more, if you're lucky. You can never tell with Murtagh."

"Ah, that hurts!" she exclaimed. The cloth of the bandage was sticking to her wounds.

"Sorry. I'm trying to be as gentle as I can, but no matter what I do it's going to hurt. I have to change your bandages every day, unless you want to get an infection."

"Not particularly." A sudden thought occurred to her. "When will I be able to get up and walk around?" She wanted to talk to Ineb.

"Not until those burns on your feet heal, at least. It could be awhile."

_Damnit. This is going to suck even more than when I broke my leg._

C'koro squeaked at her sympathetically, and she jumped a little. She had almost forgotten that he was in the room. As he realized that she had almost forgotten about him, he snorted huffily, smoke coming out his nostrils. It was almost as though he was saying, _Me?_ How could you _possibly_ forget about _me?_

Seeing the tiny dragon looking so imperious made her burst out laughing. Rhia gave her an odd look, but she couldn't stop. "Ah," she uttered a little cry. "Gods, that hurts." The laughing had hurt her sore ribs. Seeing her laugh just made C'koro even more incensed. If the door hadn't been shut, it looked like he would have stalked out of the room. His behavior only made her laugh harder, which in turn only made her ribs hurt more. "Is anything broken?" she asked Rhia, wincing.

"I don't think so," Rhia replied. "But it looks like you have some bruised ribs."

"Then why does it hurt so much? It didn't hurt this much before."

"You were given a drug," she answered slowly, "to prevent you from communicating with your dragon. That drug probably helped dull the pain somewhat as well."

"Gods. I wish I had some more of that stuff now."

"I can give you something to help with the pain, but I'm afraid it won't be anywhere near as powerful. And it doesn't taste all that good either."

"I don't care, as long as it's something. My ribs hurt like a bitch."

C'koro gave her an admonishing look, as if to warn her not to use such language. She gave him a glare back, and, though she knew it was childish, she couldn't resist sticking her tongue out at him. He rolled his eyes.

"You look like a little teenager!" She lapsed into giggles again, but stopped quickly as the motion hurt her ribs again. She made a noise of disgust, then said, "It hurts to breathe."

"Don't breathe shallowly," Rhia scolded. "You'll get pneumonia if you don't breathe normally. Then you'll be coughing, too. Do you have any idea how much more painful that would be?"

"All right, all right," Taize replied. "Point taken. But could I please get some of that nice pain reliever you told me about?"

"Of course. I'll be back in a few minutes. I'll lock the door behind me so you won't be bothered."

"Thanks." She laid on the bed, bored, until C'koro jumped up beside her. He carefully avoided her torso so he wouldn't hurt her ribs further, finally curling up on her legs. "I would scratch your head," she told the dragon, "but I'd probably hurt myself."

He hummed, content just to be near his Rider.

Taize sighed. "You're so hot. Won't you get off of me?" He snorted his disapproval. "You just _live_ to annoy the crap out of me, don't you? Demonic little dragon," she muttered to herself. She suddenly yawned, then groaned as her ribs throbbed. "Stay there if you want, but I'm going to sleep." She closed her eyes, and drifted slowly into slumber.

**AN:** Since I'm done with school now, I should be updating more regularly. Note the use of the word "should." And before I forget: if anyone has anything that they'd like to see me put in the story, let me know. And thanks to all my reviewers! I LOVE reviews! They make me happy!!


	8. Empty

**AN:** Hi! I am once again going to beg for my life because I went so long without updating, but this time I ACTUALLY have a legitimate excuse (gasp!). My computer decided to be evil and not able to access the internet, so I've had to go to the library to type this entire chapter. And that wasn't easy, because I have other things to do than just type this all day. So enjoy, and don't kill me!

**Disclaimer:** Murtagh belongs to Christopher Paolini (damn). Wait. Actually, I don't think Murtagh is even in this chapter. Sweet! So everybody is mine. ALL MINE! MWAHAHAHAHA!

**Chapter Eight  
Empty**

Rhia had been right about what turned out to be willow bark tea: it was very bitter, but it helped a little at relieving the pain in her ribs, feet, and back, which was a godsend when she was trying to get some sleep.

As the weeks went by, she slowly began to heal, and soon she found herself walking the familiar servants' corridors down to the slave quarters. She needed to talk to Ineb, to find out exactly what she had sworn to down in the dungeons.

As she was about to make her way down the narrow staircase, she was unpleasantly surprised as she felt a hand on her shoulder from behind. She turned to see who it was, annoyed rather than fearful, as she might have been only a few months earlier. She was even more unpleasantly surprised when she saw that the person behind her was Kin'naid.

"Look who's back," he sneered. "The girl who wears pants."

She was tempted to kick him in the crotch again (**AN:** Like she did in chapter 2 of Taize, if you didn't read it), but she wasn't exactly eager to be nearly strangled. Instead, she replied evenly, "You would do well to learn my name, Kin'naid." The name felt strange on her tongue; she had never dared to address him by his name before, at risk of a beating.

"And why might that be? Why should I care about the name of a mere _slave_?" he hissed.

"I am NOT a slave!" she lied vehemently. She held up her right hand, the one with the gedwëy ignasia. She noticed with a perverse happiness that a hint of fear had crept into the man's eyes.

The mark on her palm flared with light as her eyes flashed with anger. "I am a Rider, and you would do well to give me the respect I am due." She stalked down the stairway, simmering, but then ruminating. Why had one seemingly insignificant comment about being a slave triggered such a violent response from her? Although, she thought, musing, perhaps it was just because it was Kin'naid who had said it.

She sighed, frustrated, as she made her way down the rows of bunk beds to the corner where she knew she would find Ineb. He was kneeling beside a boy, who looked maybe a few years younger than herself, and bandaging his foot. The boy was whimpering slightly.

"You have to learn to be more careful, Kai," Ineb was saying, his voice gentle but firm. "You're lucky Kin'naid didn't hear that you dropped a plate. Then you'd have a lot more to worry about than just a cut on your foot." His tone was gentle, but Kai knew he was being scolded. His face flushed a little.

"Go now. You should keep off that foot as much as possible for a few days."

As the boy limped past her, she said softly, "Ineb?"

He stood up to get a better look at the newcomer. He recognized her with a shock. "Taize?" he asked, not believing his eyes. "How long have you been back?"

"It depends on what you mean by 'back,'" she replied. "If you mean 'back' as in, how long have I been back in this accursed castle," she spat, "then I'm really not sure. If you mean back as in how long have I been in the castle and not in the dungeons, then about a month." She sank down dejectedly, sitting on the bed next to Ineb.

"What happened?" he asked. "I never thought Galbatorix would think you were significant enough to go after."

"Neither did I," she replied gloomily. "Of course, I never thought I was going to steal a dragon egg before I left, either." She laughed, a short, humorless sound that contained no trace of happiness. "Damn it, I wish I'd never listened to… that voice, I guess." Then she mumbled, almost incoherently, "I wonder who it was?"

Ineb frowned, looking puzzled, but then he seemed to realize what she had just said. His eyes opened wide. "_You_ stole a dragon egg?"

Taize scowled. "Why so surprised?"

"You don't understand. Many have tried – and failed – to recover the last dragon egg from Galbatorix's clutches." He was silent for a moment. "It's almost too much to ask… But I don't suppose – Did you maybe manage to get the egg to safety?"

She shook her head. "I doubt you'd call it safe. And it isn't an egg anymore. It hatched."

"What? That's excellent! Who did it hatch for?"

"Excellent," she repeated sarcastically. "Not really. I told you it wasn't exactly in a safe place. As for who it hatched for…" She smiled ruefully.

His eyes widened again. "You're full of surprises today," he murmured. "I never expected to see you again…"

"I _hoped_ I'd never see you again." She gave him a weary smile.

"Speaking of that," he said. "Why did you come to see me?"

She suddenly remembered the reason she had come here, to this place which held so many memories for her, none of them good ones. "I needed to talk to you. Remember," she lowered her voice so that no one else could possibly hear, "remember when you healed me, before I left? The words you said?"

Ineb nodded.

"When I was in the dungeons –" she shuddered slightly "– Galbatorix had me say something, I think it was in that same language you used. Murtagh warned me about it, on our way here… I think it was an oath?"

"Probably," Ineb said grimly. "This doesn't bode well for the Varden…"

"Yes," she agreed. "But, anyway, I was hoping that you could maybe tell me what exactly it was I swore to _do_. Oh gods," she said, putting her head in her hands, "I'm really screwed this time, aren't I?" She looked at him bleakly.

"That depends on what you said," he replied soothingly. "Can you remember the words you said?"

_All too clearly,_ she thought. She told Ineb the words, and he frowned in thought. "You told him," he began slowly, "that you wouldn't try to harm him or Murtagh – not that he probably thinks you could if you wanted to – and you'll protect them both if need be. You also said that you will obey Galbatorix. But not necessarily Murtagh," he added after a moment, contemplating. "And you're not allowed to kill yourself."

"Lovely," she said, her voice pitched slightly higher than normal. She realized that she was on the verge of hysteria. "Just lovely." Suddenly, her sense of panic abated, and she was left with a sense of emptiness.

She felt hollow.

**AN:** The next chapter is already about halfway done, I'm just going to have to type it. Yeah, I like to write most of my stories out longhand first. Or at least half the chapter. After which, I go to type up what I've written and end up finishing the chapter on the computer. But whatever. Please R&R!


	9. Apathy

**AN:** I just realized last night that there was a little detail last chapter that I should have put in (but that I didn't put in, of course). Whenever she was talking to Ineb, I should have had him make a comment about how for once she didn't swear. Because in that, of all situations, it seems like it would be the time when she would just let loose a very long string of profanities. But oh well, I didn't put it in...

**Disclaimer:** Okay, NOW I don't own Murtagh. Because he's actually in this chapter. I don't own Shruiken, either. Though that would be pretty awesome. I mean, come on! He's a giant black dragon!!

**Chapter Nine  
Apathy**

When she woke the next morning, she had only a vague sense of how she had gotten back to her room. But she still remembered the events of the previous night with a terrible clarity, and the strange emptiness in her chest hadn't faded in the slightest.

It was the oddest sensation. For the first time in weeks, she wasn't even remotely depressed. But she had the feeling that as long as this persisted, she wouldn't be happy, either. It was like she was stuck in some sort of emotional limbo.

It was because she didn't care. At the moment, she saw no way out of her situation. Maybe eventually, somehow, she would manage to escape… but she seriously doubted that Galbatorix would be stupid enough to let her get away a second time, especially not now that she was a Rider, not just some lowly slave.

When she was bored, she wandered around the palace, half-wishing that she had never escaped in the first place, or at least that she had maybe waited a day or two. If she had tried it any other time, maybe that voice wouldn't have spoken to her, wouldn't have told her where the damned dragon egg was kept. Somehow, she doubted it would have made any difference. The voice probably would have spoken to her no matter when she had made her getaway.

She was suddenly overcome with anger. If that voice hadn't spoken to her, she never would have had to cross half of Alagaësia with an army after her. She might even have been able to make a life for herself right there in Urû'baen. She smiled a little. That probably would have appealed to her, an escaped slave living right under her former master's nose.

C'koro caught the gist of her thoughts and gave her a dragonish growl. "Sorry," she said, scratching the scales under his chin as he hummed with pleasure. "It's not that I don't like _you_," she explained. "Just the situation. Maybe if I had actually gotten settled in Surda and _then_ you had hatched, things would be different… It doesn't matter, I love you anyway." She pulled him closer to her and hugged his neck, something that she wouldn't have been able to do for the past few weeks for fear of hurting her still-sore ribs.

Although her mental health left a lot to be desired at the moment, physically, she was healing well. The nasty burns on the soles of her feet had been completely healed for about a week now (if they hadn't been, Rhia would never have allowed her out of bed), and the deep welts on her back were slowly scarring over. Her ribs still hurt if she inhaled too deeply, or if she laughed too hard at C'koro's strange antics, but the pain wasn't nearly as overwhelming as it had been for the first week or so.

C'koro had been growing steadily the entire time she had been stuck in bed; his head was already level with her own. For the time being, he was still staying in Taize's room with her, but soon, she thought, he would be too large to fit through the doorway. So it wasn't a complete surprise to her, though she wasn't exactly happy about it, when Murtagh appeared in her doorway one morning and told her that he was taking her dragon to the dragon hold.

"Come with me," he said to C'koro.

The dragon looked at Taize questioningly. _Should I?_ he asked. As well as his explosive physical growth, the dragon had made good progress learning to speak. Taize, for lack of anything better to do, had talked to him for what seemed like nearly every waking moment of the time she had been bedridden.

She shook her head, at both C'koro and Murtagh. "Just wait a minute, I'm coming with you. I want to know where he's going to be," she said, gesturing at her dragon.

Murtagh stood, leaning against the doorframe, waiting for her. He gave her a look that said, Well, what are you waiting for? as his fingers drummed against the stone impatiently.

Taize shot him a look. "Get out so I can get dressed, would you?" she asked, surprised at both the irritation that had suddenly flooded though her and the complete lack of fear in her voice.

More to her surprise, Murtagh didn't even protest, just stepped out into the corridor, shutting the door behind him.

When Rhia had offered to get clothes for her, Taize had (rather colorfully) stated that she would _not_, under any circumstances, wear a dress. Rhia had just nodded knowingly, but C'koro still didn't understand her aversion to skirts.

Maybe someday she would share that particularly painful memory with him someday, but at the time it had still been too soon after her near-ordeal in the dungeons. though she didn't like to keep things from her dragon, there were some things that she just wasn't yet ready to share with him.

Taize dressed quickly in the loose tunic and pants that Rhia had managed to obtain for her. The simple, unadorned fabric reminded her of the garments she'd worn as a slave, but these, she could tell, were of some cloth much finer than the rough cotton she had become accustomed to.

Once dressed, she stepped out into the hallway, closely followed by C'koro. _I wonder if I'll still be able to contact you, wherever it is you're going to be staying now,_ she mused, half to herself.

As if he had read her mind (which, Taize realized later, he probably had), Murtagh said, "Your chambers can be moved closer to the dragon hold, if you wish. Though that would also mean moving closer to my own quarters, I'm afraid."

She didn't reply as Murtagh led the way. They traveled first through some of the main corridors, which Taize knew well, and then through a maze of smaller passages in which she had never set foot before. She tried to remember the directions, but soon found herself hopelessly lost, and glad that she had someone to guide her.

Just as she thought that they would never arrive at their destination, they emerged outside in an enormous courtyard. The three walls facing them were each taken up by what looked like huge, roughly hewn caves carved out of the rock. Inside one of the caves was the red dragon, Thorn, the one she and Murtagh had ridden to Urû'baen. In another was a massive black dragon she had never seen before, but who seemed strangely familiar, just the same. She knew that he must be the king's mount, Shruikan.

"Your dragon will stay here whenever he's at the castle. Are you going to want quarters closer to here?" When she shrugged noncommittally, he went on. "Good. Because Galbatorix wants me to keep an eye on you now that you're up and walking again, and I'm not moving, so you really don't have a choice."

Taize frowned, but said nothing. _Be back soon,_ she told C'koro as Murtagh led her away from the dragon hold.

**AN:** HA! I actually updated on time! (Well, okay, one day late, but...) And this time if I took forever I actually wouldn't have any excuse whatsoever. Because I've had this chapter typed up since before chapter 8 was typed up...


	10. Anger

**AN:** Sorry to keep you waiting (again). Anywho, I am really happy because this fall I am going to be taking EMT classes! And I get my own stethoscope! Now I just have to figure out what kind to get (in other words, what kind is not super-expensive but is still good - if anyone has any knowledge on this subject, please let me know). Don't know why I'm so happy about it, since my Saturdays from September until January are pretty much shot, but oh well.

**Disclaimer:** Once again, I don't own it! Well, at least, not Murtagh. Or Galby. Or any of the stuff that belongs to C.P.

**Chapter Ten  
Anger**

"Galbatorix told me that you're going to begin your training soon," Murtagh said as they followed yet another plain stone corridor.

Taize stopped dead in her tracks. "Training?" she blurted out stupidly. "What training?" Immediately after she asked, she mentally kicked herself. Of _course_ there was going to be training. The only reason that she was still alive right now was because she had the potential to be useful to the king. And even that was conditional, she thought, recalling something Murtagh had said to her in the dungeons.

"_Eventually, he'll tire of you, if you keep resisting him. Then he'll kill you. If your dragon was female, it would be another matter entirely. Then he'd_ need _you. But as it is, to him you are… disposable, if you cause him too much trouble."_

Perhaps she could annoy the king enough to anger him in to killing her, she mused. As she entertained the notion, however, she could feel the mental equivalent of a death glare emanating from C'koro.

_Perhaps you do not value your own life, small one,_ he remarked dryly, _but unlike you, I have no desire to throw my life away so easily._ Sensing that she had been stung by his rebuke, he added, more gently, _Besides, if you somehow did manage to anger Galbatorix that much, he'd just throw you back into the dungeons, where it would be a slow death by torture – for both of us. Remember that when our minds are linked, I can feel your pain as clearly as if it were my own._

_Sorry,_ she replied, suddenly subdued.

_You should be,_ he sniffed.

She sent him a quick mental image of herself sticking her tongue out at him before she ran to catch Murtagh. She wouldn't want to be caught wandering, lost and alone, in this maze of seemingly identical corridors.

To Taize, it didn't seem as though Murtagh had noticed that he'd left her behind, but apparently he had, because when she caught up with him he turned slightly to address her. "Yes. Training." He spoke as though there had not been a lengthy gap in their conversation. "As soon as your wounds are completely healed, he wants me to begin teaching you the basics of – pretty much everything. I don't suppose you've ever wielded a sword or a bow?" He paused, expectantly, waiting for her answer.

She shook her head. "No, never a sword. And I never really had the chance to get the hang of using a bow. I had one, when I was small," she explained, when Murtagh shot her a questioning glance. "But it was really just a toy…" Her voice drifted off as she recalled her mother, positioning her hands correctly and helping her pull back the string… She blinked, and the vision was gone.

Fleeting though it had been, C'koro had seen the memory as well. _That woman,_ he queried, _Was she your mother?_

_Yes,_ she replied in a tone that invited no further conversation. _We can talk about my past another time._

_All right,_ he replied, sounding hurt.

_Stop that!_

_Stop what?_

_Don't act all hurt when I don't feel like telling you something – especially if it involves my past. There were things that I hadn't even let myself remember until _that _bastard_ – she jerked her head towards Murtagh, who noticed both the movement and the angry look on her face – _had to go digging around in my head dredging it all up so that Galbatorix could use it against me to force me to swear to him. So forgive me if I'm not quite ready to go reliving things that I'd just as soon like to forget!_ She blinked back angry tears, determined not to cry in front of Murtagh – not again.

_Fine,_ was her dragon's taciturn response.

"You shouldn't stay mad at him," Murtagh advised. "He's part of you. It's like being angry at yourself." He smiled ruefully. "Believe me, I know."

She could only stare at him, open-mouthed, in fury. "Were you _listening?!_" she shrieked. "That was _private!_ Between me and him! I – I can't _believe_ you!"

By this time, others in the hallway were starting to stare. Fortunately, they had just reached what was to be Taize's new room. Resisting, with difficulty, the urge to slap Murtagh, she turned and stomped inside, slamming the door behind her.

As he headed to his own room, adjacent to Taize's, he thought he heard a muffled cry of, "That bastard!"

_Is it just me,_ he asked Thorn once he was safely inside his own room, _or is she still acting like a three-year old?_

_Maybe she was a bit… immature,_ came the dragon's reply, _but you_ did _invade her privacy._

_But Galbatorix –_

_I know. He told you to monitor her thoughts. But you have to give her _some _privacy._ _Otherwise she'll never trust you._ _Although_, Thorn added after a moment's thought, _there's a good chance that she'll never trust you anyway._

_I know,_ replied Murtagh, some inscrutable emotion in his voice.

_At least she doesn't seem to be afraid of you anymore._

_Maybe. I think that when she gets angry, it overshadows everything else – including fear. Which could be a bad thing if she gets pissed off at Galbatorix._

_And it _isn't_ a bad thing when she blows up at you?_ Thorn retorted._ When you lose your temper, you're a sight to behold._

He didn't answer for a long moment. _I don't want to hurt her anymore,_ he finally said.

Thorn sighed mentally. _That doesn't mean you won't._

**AN:** The next chapter is probably going to be somewhat short, but I should have it up by this friday (note the use of the word SHOULD and not WILL).


	11. Nightmare

**AN:** Yeah, I know. It's short. And it's three days late. I think I might just start updating on Mondays, it's easier. Next chapter WILL be longer, I promise! For this one, I had the second part written for about two weeks before I even needed this chapter. And then I DID need it and needed to add a little bit to the beginning, so... Shut up and read.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Murtagh. Wow, I really need to come up with some new and creative ways to say that.

**Chapter Eleven  
Nightmare**

Taize leaned her back against C'koro's flank, taking comfort from the warmth. She had returned to the dragon hold soon after the incident with Murtagh, and had been sitting with her dragon ever since. The sky was growing dark when she finally spoke.

_I'm sorry, about before,_ she said.

_I know._

_I'm still not ready to tell you anything._

He paused for a moment before answering. _All right._

_What?_ she asked, surprised. _You seemed pretty pissed off before._

_I _was_. But that man, from before –_

_Murtagh,_ she corrected.

_Murtagh – he was right. It_ is _like being mad at yourself._

_He shouldn't have been listening._

_No._ They were silent for awhile. _When you finally feel like talking to me,_ he said, with only a hint of irony in his voice, _you know where I'll be._

Suddenly, Taize leaped up and hugged him around the neck. _Love you,_ she said. _Someday we'll talk. Just not today, okay? After all,_ she said dryly, _it's not like we won't have time._

C'koro chuckled, a strange, draconian laugh. _Go to bed, small one. Get some rest. I have a feeling that you're going to need it._

* * *

Hours later, Murtagh still couldn't sleep. Restlessly, he got up out of bed and left his room to take a walk around the castle.

Passing by the girl's room, he couldn't resist a peek inside. He opened the heavy wooden door silently, then leaned against the doorframe, watching. Moonlight was streaming through the window, clearly illuminating Taize's face as she slept. Even in sleep, however, she did not look peaceful. Her brow was furrowed, her eyes shut tight against some unseen horror. Sweat glistened on her forehead. She was having a nightmare.

"What? Where are we going?" She was on the opposite side of the room, but Murtagh could hear her clearly from where he stood. "What are you doing?" She was silent for a brief moment, breathing heavily. Then she screamed, thrashing violently under the covers.

He was stricken by a sudden, unexpected pang of guilt. He remembered her words – how could he not? – from one of the times he had tortured her in the dungeons. She was having nightmares about _him_.

She continued to toss in her bed, though she didn't scream again, for which he was grateful. He crossed the room to her bed and put a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake. Up this close, he could see that she was crying.

"It's all right," he said, trying to soothe her. "It was just a dream."

She groggily opened her eyes, which gradually came to focus on Murtagh. When she realized who it was, she recoiled. "Please," she begged, unsure of whether she was still dreaming or not, "Why can't you just leave me alone?" She began to cry in earnest. He took one look at the agonized expression on her face and decided that it would be a very good time for him to leave.

As he walked out the door, he stopped for a moment. "Slytha," he whispered, and Taize quieted instantly, in a deep sleep where no dreams would plague her.

**AN:** So yeah. Short little chapter that's kind of almost a filler, but I think it's decent. As always, please review! It's greatly appreciated!


	12. Ribs

**AN:** Here's a nice long chapter to make up for the fact that I haven't updated in over a month... (Grins sheepishly.) This chapter simply refused to be written. Argh. And even though it's finally done, I feel like I got everyone completely OOC. And in my personal opinion, the end of this chappie kind of sucks... But at least it's UP!

**Disclaimer:** Murtagh and Galby are Christopher Paolini's. Everybody else is mine.

**Chapter Twelve  
Ribs**

When she woke up the next morning, she remembered the previous night perfectly. _I had another nightmare,_ she told C'koro, withdrawn.

_I know._

_I guess I shouldn't care so much. It's just – I don't want to think_ _about it anymore._

_Sometimes the things we don't want to think about are the ones we give the most thought to._

_Yes. But in my case I keep _dreaming_ about the things I don't want to think about._ She changed the subject. _Why was Murtagh in my room last night?_ she asked suspiciously.

_I don't know._

Before she could ponder it further, there was a knock at the door.

"Just a minute," she called. She quickly dressed in the same shirt and pants she had worn yesterday, then answered the door. Standing on the threshold was Murtagh.

She frowned. "What do _you_ want?" she asked rudely. She was beyond caring whether he thought her impolite.

"Galbatorix wants to see us."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Come on. We don't want to keep him waiting. He tends to get… irritated when you show up late."

Once again, she found herself following Murtagh through the corridors of the castle. This time, she knew where they were in the castle – they were near the kitchens – though she didn't know their destination.

They hadn't been walking for more than five minutes when he led her to a small, inconspicuous door that she had passed often but had never entered. She knew that past that door was the king's private dining room. Only a few of Galbatorix's most trusted servants were allowed inside. She had always been curious as to what it looked like inside, but had never dared try to sneak a glimpse.

They entered the room, which was smaller and less richly decorated than Taize had thought it would be. Like in Galbatorix's throne room, large windows gave an impression of airiness. The dark red velvet curtains were open, letting sunlight stream inside. The only furniture in the room was a mahogany table and three chairs, all beautifully carved with a floral design. A servant was just leaving with the remains of breakfast.

One of the chairs was occupied by the king. "Sit," he said.

They sat.

"Murtagh," he said, addressing the older Rider first. He glanced at Taize. "You'll be wanting some privacy, I suppose?" His next words were to Taize. "Eyddr eyreya onr."

_What just happened?_ she asked herself, suddenly unable to hear what they were saying. Apparently, however, her newfound deafness did not apply to mental communications, because C'koro answered her.

_It was magic, obviously,_ he said.

_You don't have to be patronizing._

They waited in silence as she watched them talk. At one point, an expression of shock crossed Murtagh's features. When he noticed Taize watching, he turned away from her so that she couldn't see his face.

_What I would give to be able to read lips…_

Their talk seemed to go on for a long while, though she was sure that she'd be absorbed if she could hear what they were saying. Bored, she tilted her chair back onto its hind legs, seeing how far back she could go before –

She fell to the floor with a crash that she couldn't hear. The king glared at her. She blushed, setting the chair upright, and resumed her seat until they were finished. Then Galbatorix said something, undoubtedly in the Ancient Language, and she could hear again.

"Taize," he said. Hearing her name from his lips sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. "From now on, I would _appreciate_ it if you would address me as 'master.'" He smirked. Though his words were polite, his tone was smug.

She clenched her fists at her sides, resisting the urge to scream in frustration. Instead, she did something much quieter but equally as stupid. She spat at Galbatorix's feet. "Never."

"That was foolish." His voice was scarily neutral. He grinned maliciously. Then the dangerous edge she had been expecting crept into his tone. "I do not suffer fools." He said something in the Ancient Language, and suddenly she was on the floor, screaming in pain. She dimly recalled that it was the same spell he had used on her before, on her first day back in Urû'baen. Then it was over, and she was lying in a heap at the king's feet. "You _will_ call me master, he said dangerously, "one way or another." He kicked her viciously in the side, and Taize felt something crack.

_Probably a rib. Or three,_ she thought through the pain. Her vision blurred; she knew that she was about to pass out. She didn't get the chance, however, to sink into unfeeling unconsciousness. The pain in her side intensified to almost unbearable agony as her chest muscles contracted. She coughed briefly, the metallic tang of blood in her mouth.

"You'll be unconscious soon," he said indifferently. "If you don't say it before then, you won't wake up."

_I have no choice,_ she thought, and she could sense C'koro agreeing with her. She mumbled something aloud.

"What was that? You'll need to speak up."

He had heard her perfectly well, she knew. But she made herself say it again. "I said –" she had to force the words from her lips – "Yes… master," she said faintly, just loud enough to be heard. She closed her eyes and laid her head on the floor, breathing shallowly.

"That wasn't so hard now, was it?" Galbatorix asked mockingly. He turned to Murtagh, who had remained silent throughout the incident. "You may heal her, I suppose. Just enough so that she doesn't die. She should suffer for her insolence."

Taize's brain was slow to process what he had just said. When she realized who it was who would be healing her, her eyes widened. "What? No…" she said weakly. "I don't want him near me."

Murtagh's mouth curved downward slightly, but otherwise his face remained impassive. "I'll see that it's done, master," he told Galbatorix. Seeing Taize's scowl, he added, "Even if I have to restrain her."

The king nodded, dismissing them. "Leave now."

Murtagh picked her up, jostling her ribs. Instead of cursing, as she usually would have, she let out a moan of pain.

"Sorry," Murtagh murmured under his breath – they were still within earshot of the king.

She drifted in and out of consciousness as he carried her back to her room and placed her gently on the bed. When he began to remove her shirt, however, she woke with a vengeance.

"NO! Get away!" she shrieked, her eyes wide with terror. Her fear overtook the pain, at least momentarily.

"If you want me to heal you, I have to –"

"Stay away!" Her arms trembled with the effort as she feebly tried to push him away.

"You'll die if I don't heal you!" he shouted back at her angrily.

She flinched. An angry Murtagh was not something she had ever wanted to see. "No…" she whimpered. Angry was bad. Very bad. Especially if the angry one was Kin'naid.

"I don't have time for this," he muttered. "I have to leave. He moved to take her shirt off again.

"NO! GET INEB!" she screamed, half-mad with fear and pain.

C'koro tried to soothe her, but her intense emotions acted as a barrier, preventing him from contacting her.

* * *

In Murtagh's mind, another conversation was taking place.

_Stop, Murtagh!_ came Thorn's mental shout. _Can't you see that you're doing more harm than good?_

_What?_

_Haven't you noticed?_ the dragon asked dryly. _She's afraid of you._

_Yes, but –_

_She's even more afraid of you when you're trying to take her shirt off._ You _were the one who looked through her memories – didn't you realize that she was afraid of men?_

_Of course, but –_

_But what? You're a man – or at least, you were the last time I checked,_ said Thorn. _And you also happen to be the one who tortured her in the dungeons._ _She certainly has more than enough reason to fear you._ The dragon felt Murtagh wince, as though his words had been blows, but he continued. _Back off, or you'll only scare her more. You_ do _want her to trust you someday, don't you?_

_Of course._

_Then go. Find Ineb – you remember who he is from her memories – bring him here and let_ him _heal her. He's the only one she'll trust right now._

_But Galbatorix –_

_He didn't _order_ you to heal her,_ Thorn reminded him. _He only gave you permission. I thought you knew how to find a loophole by now. Go,_ he insisted. _She doesn't have time for you to stand there and argue with me._

Murtagh reached the slave quarters based only on Taize's memories, for which he was grateful. If he asked the wrong person for directions, he knew, within a day it would be all over the castle that he had a slave for a mistress. Damned gossips.

When he met Kin'naid, he brushed past him easily, flashing his gedwëy ignasia as he went.

He reached the bottom of the stairs… and realized that he had absolutely no idea where Ineb might be. He approached the first slave he saw, a small boy. "Where's Ineb?" he asked brusquely. "It's an emergency."

The boy looked up at him, slightly frightened, but clearly in awe of him. "All the way down this row and to the right, sir." He pointed the way.

Murtagh didn't thank the boy, but instead turned and ran in the direction he had pointed.

As he ran past the rows of bunk beds, making sure that Ineb wasn't somewhere other than where the boy had said he would be, he noted the slaves' reactions to him. Most of the small children looked on curiously, until they were pulled away by their mothers, who averted their eyes, trying to escape this noble man's notice. The few men gazed at him distrustfully. In all their lives, they could not remember a man of Murtagh's status who had come here and walked among them. Occasionally he would pass someone who was already asleep for the night, most of them sick or injured. Once, he went by a white-haired slave who was not moving at all, her eyes staring glassily upward. Dead.

The place was tucked away in a corner, with blankets draped in such a way that it would afford the occupant some privacy. Just as Murtagh reached it, Ineb came out, stripping off a shirt that had a dark smear of something on it.

"Come with me, quickly," said Murtagh.

Ineb eyed Murtagh warily as he pulled on a clean shirt that was folded, waiting for him, on a nearby bunk.

"It's Taize," Murtagh added, and suddenly Ineb was all action.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"She has some broken ribs. There's a hole in her lung, I think. She's coughing up blood."

"That's not good," Ineb said as they ran back to the stairs. "But why didn't you heal her? You _are_ a Rider, correct?"

"She wouldn't let me near her," he said ruefully.

"You could have restrained her," Ineb replied. "If you wanted to."

"I didn't want to."

They didn't stop running until they reached Taize's room. When they entered, Taize looked much worse than she had just a few minutes ago. Her skin was pale and clammy, and she was struggling to breathe. She was still conscious – barely. She was clearly fighting to stay awake. She didn't appear to notice that they had come in.

"Taize," said Ineb gently. "I'm here."

She lifted her head, making sure it was really him. When she saw Murtagh standing behind him, she gasped, "Get – him – out."

Murtagh turned to leave, already knowing that she didn't want him there. But before he went, he said to Ineb, "Don't heal her ribs. Just the lung. Otherwise we'll both be in trouble."

Ineb frowned, but nodded. "Go," he said quietly. "She'll be fine."

Despite his reassurances, Murtagh waited outside until Ineb left the room. When he peeked inside, he could see Taize sleeping peacefully.

**AN:** In case you didn't pick up on it, Galby told Murtagh to go to the Burning Plains and that Eragon is his brother and all that when they were talking. School is being evil, so I don't think that I will get a chance to update for awhile, even though Ch. 13 is already partially done. Plus, I am going to be working on a piece of original fiction... involving giant flying umbrellas... Yeah. But that's a whole other story. Anywho, after Ch. 13 is up, I definitely don't plan on updating until after Brisingr is out and I am done reading it. Which could be awhile, since my schedule's pretty busy for the rest of the month... But whatever.

Oh, and please review!


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